Silent Hill Reminiscence: Officer Wheeler
by GlaringEyes
Summary: Pre-SH1 events. Newly-admitted to Brahms police force, Wheeler becomes acquainted with a dutiful policewoman, whom he comes to respect and admire. COMPLETE!
1. A Rookie in Brahms

**As the fans might already know, in SHH, Deputy Wheeler mentioned a policewoman from Brahms who had gone missing years before, only her bike being found on the roadside. This woman is strongly hinted to be Cybil Bennett, from SH1. So I thought: why not writing a fic depicting Wheeler and Cybil becoming acquainted with each other, before her disappearance in the town of Silent Hill?**

**Much of this story is based on Wheeler's Diary and the SH Wiki timeline.**

**This is the second of a series of short stories featuring some SH characters who might have crossed paths prior to the games events. The other stories may be found in my profile, as they are released.**

**I do not own Silent Hill. It belongs to Konami.**

I will use the following typing standards:

"Normal speech"

'Inner thoughts'

"YELLING!"

_Flashbacks, written passages_

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 01 – A ROOKIE IN BRAHMS<strong>

'7:30a.m.' rang the alarm clock. Shuffling inside the blankets, a young, dark-skinned man with crew-cut hair grunted in annoyance at the irritating noise. Reaching his hand out to the nightstand, James Wheeler shut off the device and reluctantly sat himself upon his bed, letting out a long yawn next. He knew, however, that tardiness was out of question today. This particular day was a special one. This was his first day in the police force.

He was told to present himself at 9:00a.m., punctually. That meant he still had forty-five minutes to eat breakfast, take a shower and get dressed before departure. Done with the uniform (which consisted of a light-blue shirt with badges sewn on, black trousers, cap and, of course, his personal handgun) at last, he pulled out his car and drove towards the nearest highway. It was other thirty-five minutes till his workplace, so if his calculations were right, he'd arrive there ten minutes earlier than scheduled. Given it was his first day, he was worried about giving a nice impression, so the alarm had been set a bit earlier than usual.

While driving, Wheeler wondered how this new job would be like. He couldn't help but feel lucky that he had managed to get a state job, not an easy thing for a dark-skinned man considering these days. It had been nearly twenty years since Luther King's march, but racism died hard, especially in small towns, where the people tended to be more conservative.

Brahms police, surprisingly, didn't seem to hold any prejudice against him serving in the force. On the contrary, they had been quite friendly to him. Wheeler liked to think these guys were more open-minded than the average, yet a small portion of his mind still thought it had more to do with the lack of police staff on that particular region than anything else. Brahms was a calm, nice little town. The type of place you'd choose to set roots in and form a family. Still, that position he had applied for had been vacant for a good couple of years. Why not many people wished to serve there, he didn't know. Rumors stated it was somehow related to the nearby towns, which could be pretty... troublesome.

Anyway, whatever the reason, it didn't matter for Wheeler. After all, he had just graduated from the police academy months ago and was already employed. He had nothing to complain about.

Brahms police station soon came into sight, right at the town's entrance. A two-floored structure with wide glass windows and a fenced parking at front. Since the lot showed no vacancies, he had to park his car outside. Not that it bothered him, so he stepped out and strode inside the building. Anticipation could barely be concealed.

Heading straight to the secretary at the reception desk, he stated his business there and got directed up to the chief's office on the second floor. It was now 8:52a.m., so his calculations had been fairly precise. A trace of pride crossed his mind on that instant.

Upon entering the office, Wheeler faced the man that would be his boss from this day forward, sat at his desk. He was middle-aged, with short black hair, his slightly wrinkled face displaying signals of both age and job weariness. As his presence was acknowledged by the older cop, the rookie stood upright.

"Officer James Wheeler presenting himself for work, sir." He snapped to attention and saluted, in a military way.

"Oh yes, the new guy," the chief stood up and walked up to the newcomer, holding out his hand. "You know it already, but let me introduce myself again: Sheriff Thomas Gucci. Welcome aboard, Wheeler."

"My pleasure, sir." He replied, as he shook hands with Thomas. The chief grinned at the younger man's strict attitude, aware that rookies usually behaved like that in order to impress their superiors. With time though, they would eventually loosen up and start acting more naturally.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to the others." The sheriff said, gesturing to the door and guiding the newbie downstairs. For now, the chief seemed quite nice. Wheeler had firstly met him in the interview weeks ago and the impression had been the same. Of course, at the time, he had presumed Gucci was acting cool only until the real work started, switching later to a bossy ass. Fortunately, it looked like he was mistaken.

As they made it into a large office with many desks spread around, Thomas approached the nearest teammate and gestured to the rookie.

"Tower, meet James Wheeler, the new guy I told you."

The tall, serious-faced man held out his hand. "Nice to meet you. Officer Robert Tower."

As both men shook hands, the chief elaborated the introduction. "Robert is one of our most experienced officers here. In fact, he's about to get retired in a few years."

Wheeler took notice of that. Indeed Robert looked quite aged, even more than the chief, with a handful of gray strings standing out in his dark hair. He turned to the next policeman in the row of desks.

"And this is Mayberry. Robert's future replacement." Sheriff Gucci presented. Wheeler gazed at the curly-haired man (obviously younger than Tower, but slightly older than himself) and shook hands with him too.

"Mayberry?" the rookie inquired, curious about his name. It looked rather a nick, not to mention more appropriate for a woman.

"Yep, just Mayberry. I prefer like that." Replied the man, with a half-serious smirk on his face. Wheeler simply shrugged; if he wanted to be addressed by that, who was he to deny it?

Wheeler would have proceeded to the next desks, if it wasn't for the fact they were all empty. Thomas realized the rookie's confusion and addressed his concern ahead. "The rest of our force is currently on vacation or on patrol. And even if they were here, you'd see we're a bit short-staffed lately. That's why it's great to have you here; we can always use another hand around."

Maybe he was being just paranoid, but Wheeler couldn't avoid having a strange sensation about this place. Despite the number of desks and the town's size, the chief still claimed they were short-staffed, which meant not all of these desks had an occupant. This led to the hypothesis that a good number of officers had either left the force or... else. Would those rumors about have any truth on them? Perhaps he was sticking his neck onto something nasty. But again, perhaps he was only overthinking and there was really nothing to fear.

As Sheriff Gucci showed the younger cop his desk, the door to the lockers room opened and someone strolled out of it. A young policewoman, with clear blue eyes and short blond hair, not appearing to be much older than Wheeler. Quite a beauty, he had to admit. She wore the same uniform as him, the only difference being the leather gloves and her skin-tight pants, which led to the assumption she rode a motorcycle often.

"Good morning, guys." She greeted out, while browsing every face inside. A puzzled expression came to her, as she perceived around both the boss and a dark-skinned man she didn't recognize.

"Ah, Bennett. Good timing," said Thomas, acknowledging her. "This is James Wheeler. He'll be working with us from now on."

She held out her hand, posing a polite smile. "Welcome to Brahms, Wheeler. The name's Cybil Bennett." He returned the smile and shook hands with her.

"You're leaving on patrol now, aren't you?" the older officer continued. "Take Wheeler with you. He needs to get familiar with the town."

"Sure. Come with me." Cybil answered, heading off to the parking. Normally she would rather patrol on her motorcycle, nevertheless she was always glad to show someone around. It was her hometown, after all.

"Just don't scare the shit out of him with your driving, Bennett!" shouted Mayberry, in a playful tone. It was widely spread in the station that Cybil loved to step (deep) on the gas, oblivious to the fact she was in a car rather than a bike.

"Very funny." The policewoman sarcastically snorted, before leaving.

'Well, so far, so good. The people here seem nice. Looks like I was just overthinking indeed.' He shrugged it off, following her shortly.

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><p><strong><strong>According to SH Wiki, Wheeler's first name, James, has been mentioned only in unused game files.<strong>**

****Thomas Gucci came mainly from the SH movie, but was mentioned in SH1 too. The other officers' names, Robert Tower and Mayberry hailed from the SH comics "The Grinning Man".****

****Sorry for the draggy chapter, but it was necessary to situate the timeline and the characters. Things will get interesting on the next chapter, I promise.****


	2. A Loony in the Bar

**I do not own Silent Hill. It belongs to Konami.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 02 – A LOONY IN THE BAR<strong>

The morning patrol flowed quite smooth, with Cybil driving the police car along the streets of Brahms and showing the newbie the town's main spots. Contrary to the station's belief, she drove rather safely, or at least was doing a very good job in pretending she did. The policeman, sat on the passenger seat, remained quiet most of the ride, except for some pleasantries exchanged at the beginning of the ride. He was mainly focused on memorizing the surroundings and trying to absorb everything his teammate explained. Brahms overall wasn't huge, thus it wasn't long before the city tour was finished. Cybil drove to the highway, intending to show him the main roads to the neighboring towns.

It was when Wheeler decided to break his silence and clarify a few doubts. "Bennett, you said the Brahms police's often called upon incidents in other towns. Aren't they out of our jurisdiction?"

"Normally, yes." Cybil replied. "But the police staff in the neighboring towns is not that big. Whenever we can help, we do it. Criminals don't respect jurisdiction, you know."

"What sort of criminals? Shoplifters, brawlers?" he questioned, supposing outlaws here would be of lesser types.

"Drug dealers," she dully pointed out, which surprised the rookie cop a little. Slightly baffled at his reaction, the female cop smirked a bit. "Why the surprise? Wasn't expecting that?"

"Uh, kinda," he answered, half embarrassed for outwardly displaying it. "It was more like, I expected greater cities to have problems with drug dealers, but to think that small towns also had them..."

"Well, we do. And those guys are very organized as well," she assured, as her free hand picked up a pamphlet over the car panel and passed it to the passenger. "Here, take a look at this."

Wheeler took the pamphlet and, after a quick read, wondered out loud. "PTV?"

"Yep, a narcotic derived from a native plant called White Claudia," she explained, as his eyes trailed off to the printed picture of a small herb with white blossoms. "It's highly addictive, so it's reasonable to assume the dealers get a nice profit off the traffic."

Always a well-informed man, Wheeler was aware of how dangerous drug racket could be, especially if it was profitable. He recalled of those academy books telling about the Colombian cartel and the Asian heroine smugglers. Of course, at the time he only saw them as distant organizations acting up in remote countries and the situation seemed quite farfetched for him to care. That was, until being forced to actually face one in his life, which now appeared to be the time. The idea tensed him a little.

"If those dealers are being so troublesome, shouldn't we leave them for the DEA?"

"It's not like we haven't tried yet," she started informatively. "You see, awhile back, a couple of narcotics agents came to handle it, but it all ended up in a conflict of jurisdiction, which then evolved into an ego fight between the local police and the feds."

"Ego fight?" he asked, confused.

"Basically us and them trying to steal the spotlight from each other," Bennett abridged it, with a hint of frustration. "It's ridiculous, but as much me and a few others attempted to make it work, that's what it'd turned into anyway."

"But, in the end, was something achieved at all?"

"Officially, it was. A bunch of offenders got arrested here and there and the agents simply left afterwards, claiming mission accomplished." She snorted a bit, before resuming. "But I'll tell you, Wheeler... I pretty much doubt it. We still see those bastards roaming around freely, selling that crap to kids, yet unless we get them in the very act, there isn't much we can do." She finished with a sigh of frustration.

All that info left Wheeler rather astonished. Being newly-graduated from the academy, he knew how things worked in theory, having gone through all those lessons about how the government spheres should work together in order to provide common good, blah, blah, blah... however, as his female teammate stated, things weren't exactly like that in practice. From what he was understanding, the local police wasn't particularly fond of 'outsiders' stepping on their turf and peeping over their shoulders. On the other hand, federal agencies kind of looked down on the locals, sometimes to the point of regarding them as 'hillbillies in uniform'. In this sort of environment, nobody could expect the parts to be much cooperative, could they? Indeed, as the orator had warned at the graduation speech, there was a hell much you'd have to learn outside classroom.

His musings were cut off the instant Cybil pulled in the car to a roadside gas, parking it in front of the jointed diner.

"Just a small break," she stated, stepping out of the car. The rookie scrutinized the restaurant: small, old, although tidy, the sign above reading '_Smitty's Restaurant & Variety_'. Deciding to stretch his legs a bit, he followed her inside.

As they entered it, the policewoman headed straight to the ladies room. Meanwhile, Wheeler approached the counter to order something for the both of them. Officer Bennett seemed a really nice person, and he appreciated her company so far. Who knows, it might pay off to be on her good side.

"Two coffees, please." He made his order to the attendant. The young lady with long blond hair and a bandana over her head promptly filled two plastic cups in the coffee machine. As she placed the beverages over the counter, she stared at the officer curiously.

"You're new in the force, aren't you?" the attendant inquired.

"Excuse me?" Wheeler got a tad surprised at the lady's sudden question.

She pointed at the badge on his uniform, which read '_Police Dept. Town of Brahms_'. "You're from the Brahms police, aren't you? Never saw you around though."

"Oh, this," he said, recomposing himself. It was common knowledge that townsfolk were usually acquainted with everyone out in the area. "Yes, I've been just admitted in the police. Started today."

"Hmm, interesting. We don't see many new faces moving in lately." She said, as a matter of fact.

Again, that old paranoid side of his began rendering him uncomfortable. Those rumors again. And among them, he recalled of some nasty stories about people tending to disappear or die in strange ways on the surroundings. Rumors were supposed to be only rumors, however the facts he had been hearing kept poking the finger on the wound.

"Really? Why not?" he asked, trying not to sound nervous.

"Because of that wretched town!" a male voice next to them butted in. Shifting their heads towards the source, the officer and the attendant spotted a man eating at the counter, wearing a cap and a brown vest over a plaid shirt, mostly resembling a stereotyped truck driver.

Wheeler lifted an eyebrow at him, a bit fazed by the sudden intrusion. "What do you mean?"

"Don't mind him. That guy's a loony." The attendant whispered at the policeman's ear, before heading off to the kitchen. She didn't need to hear all that nonsense again.

When she was out of sight, the mysterious man resumed. "I mean Silent Hill, the town further down the road. There is more than meets the eye on that place. That's what keeps people away."

"How come?" he questioned, now curious. Out of the spread rumors, most of them also focused heavily on this town, Silent Hill. Maybe it had something to do with the aforementioned drug dealers. If this guy had any info regarding it, he should at least give him the chance to explain himself.

"It's a God-forsaken place, watched over by a demon." The trucker somberly spoke.

"Demon?" now a trait of skepticism noticeable in the rookie's voice, as he strained to hold a chuckle. He had expected a serious explanation, some kind of enlightenment, but as the attendant said, indeed he was only a loony seeking attention. "As a vampire or the Frankenstein?"

"No, a much worse type," the trucker replied, at first ignoring the incredulous tone. "An entity that can gaze into your very soul, and bring out the most painful memories you hide deep inside you."

"Oh, yeah? So did the police psychiatrist who interviewed me." Wheeler joked a little.

By now the other man had frowned at the sarcasm. "You may not believe me, but I've been there, pal. Seven years ago. And I saw it with those very eyes." He spoke, pointing at his own eyes, his tone changing to an angrier one.

"... You saw it?" the cop inquired in a more serious (although fake) tone, dropping the jokes for now. It was his first day at work and he didn't want to spoil it by getting into a heated argument with some random guy. "And how does it look like?"

"It can assume many forms," the loony answered, changing back to his somber tone now that the policeman was more willing to take him seriously. "Most of the time, it takes the shape of an innocent child, intended to lure unsuspecting bystanders into its grasp." He paused a moment to take a gulp of his soda. "But its real shape is of a hideous creature. A winged, horned monster with sharp claws. I've seen... and fought it."

"Uh okay," the rookie said, in an attempt to seem interested. After all, the best way to deal with a crazy person was to play along with them. That was what the police manual stated, at least. "But if you have defeated the demon, what would still be keeping people from moving in?"

"The demon's not alone," the older man retorted. "No, it has a group of followers, people who worship it as a god. Those fanatics will do everything for the demon, even sacrificing themselves and others. And don't doubt that they have a way to bring it back."

Well, now the conversation was starting to get boring. Wheeler finally realized the stupidity of giving hearing to this guy while he went on, narrating some bullshit about immolation rituals, deceased parents' ghosts and crooked doctors. The more he talked, the more it resembled some B-horror movie script, so the cop wasn't paying much mind. Silently he was hoping Cybil would return soon and they could just scram. Fortunately for Wheeler, the trucker seemed to have finally finished his meal and stood up from the stool, meaning he didn't have to put up with the loony much longer.

Before he left, however, the mysterious guy spat one last warning. "Anyway, heed my advice, pal. Whatever the reason, don't ever go to Silent Hill. You won't like what you'll see."

Without waiting for a reply, he took his leave at last, heading towards the restaurant's door. Just about the same time Bennett had returned. Acknowledging her presence, Wheeler handed her the coffee.

"Why, thank you," she said, taking the cup, slightly delighted at her new teammate's chivalry. "You were talking to someone?"

"More like bearing with someone," he replied, pointing at the pane. "Forest Gump there kept me entertained this whole time."

Through the glass, Cybil caught a glimpse of said figure, just jumping back on his eighteen-wheeler. Immediately she recognized whom.

"Oh, you mean Travis?" she snorted. "That man is such a vivid one. Believe it or not, for the last seven years he has been trying to convince the local police and the citizens about some devils and cults in Silent Hill. Not that anyone ever pays attention to him, so we just let him be. He can be funny sometimes."

"Yeah, I know. He told me the entire tall tale. At least, it's more original than being abducted by aliens and having the memory erased".

They both chuckled at the remark. If there was one thing Wheeler was good at was bantering. Not that he didn't believe in aliens though; he just thought that real aliens would do better than sticking probes inside people's cavities, like generally reported.

Nonetheless, looking at their watches, they realized it'd better return to base. Cybil's patrol shift was about to end soon, thus they strode back to the car.

On the way back, the journey was marked by idle chat, mainly the rookie 'confiding' to her his own conspiracy theories. The mumbo-jumbo ranged from a possible connection between the Roswell incident in the 40's and the subsequent Space Race, motivated by the acquisition of alien technology, to an open mistrust on federal agencies (despite himself being a state agent), accusing the newly-invented 'mobile phones' of being a plot of governments and big corporations to keep watch over the people wherever they were. Cybil herself was rather amused by that, especially after noticing the serious tone he used during his rambling. There was even a moment she wondered who was the real Forest Gump there, Wheeler or Travis? Both were quite on par in the storytelling department. This guy was funny to listen too, she had to admit.

The chat went on until the car passed by a road sign which read '_Silent Hill 13 Miles_'. Catching a glimpse of it, Wheeler interrupted his speech and decided to bring back another subject. "Bennett, that Travis guy mentioned this nearby town, Silent Hill. Isn't it the resort at Toluca Lake?"

Cybil hummed a yes, to which her teammate proceeded. "Why would anyone spread around false advertisement about a touristic town? Did he have a bad time there or what?"

Of course, Wheeler knew that loonies needed no reasons to spit nonsense around. Nevertheless there was still supposed to be a grain of logic behind people's actions, even for those who weren't in the right frame of mind. His own theories didn't make sense to most people, however even themselves had some sort of educated background. He didn't just pull them out of the blue.

"I don't know," she answered. Her expression then changed as if recalling something. "But if he had, he wasn't the only one, I'm sure of it."

Seeing the quizzical face the passenger displayed, the female driver detailed further. "There's one thing you need to know about Silent Hill. The police there is rather... unhelpful, putting it mildly. You remember our previous talk about the local drug dealers?"

He nodded. "Well, at the time, the Silent Hill police didn't look particularly willing to capture the dealers, so to speak. Many times we requested their cooperation, but they either claimed to not have enough manpower, or, if they did, it hadn't been wholehearted."

"You think they might have covered up for the criminals?"

"If they didn't, some of the local citizens surely did. Whether by fear or ulterior motives, many of them refused to talk or testify against anything back there. This has greatly contributed for the mission's failure."

Unintentionally, this last piece of info left Wheeler worried. If those felons were so organized to the point of shutting up an entire town, then it only meant they were dealing with something more powerful than he had predicted. Perhaps more than mere drug dealers. If there was another thing Wheeler really loved since his younger years was a conspiracy theory. Wherever he looked at, he saw suspicions, things happening beneath the harmless appearance.

Maybe there was some background for the trucker's tales after all. Not the part about demons naturally, as he didn't believe in supernatural, but the one about something fishy lurking in Silent Hill. One thing was hearing it from a random guy he met in a bar; another entirely different thing was hearing it directly from a levelheaded co-worker like Bennett. There should be a reason why people stayed away from there. Consequently, the more he mulled over the issue, the more Travis' words started sounding not so absurd at all. And surely that was not a comfortable thought.

Anyway, as said, it was just his first day at work. It was still too early to judge the place and he would have much time to get used to this new life, so he quickly pushed those negative thoughts aside. For now, his only concern should be returning to the station and set his desk in order.

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><p><strong><strong>DEA = Drug Enforcement Administration<strong>**

****Smitty's roadside restaurant hails from the SH movie, just as the female attendant.****

****Another chunk of math is in order again. This story takes place shortly before the events of SH1 (around 1983), so with Cybil and Wheeler being born in 1955 and 1957, respectively, that makes them 28 and 26 by now. Travis was in his mid-twenties in SH0 (approximately 1976), so he'd be in his early thirties now.****

****Please read & review.****


	3. A Disappearance in Silent Hill

**I do not own Silent Hill. It belongs to Konami.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 03 – A DISAPPEARANCE IN SILENT HILL<strong>

Two months had passed since James Wheeler started at Brahms police force. Within this time frame, the remaining officers on vacation had returned, being properly introduced to the newbie as well. So far, he seemed to get along nicely with them... or at least most of them.

A certain Officer Stone, who happened to be the deputy and second-in-command there, appeared to have taken a dislike to him, to the point of not even acknowledging the rookie's presence whenever he greeted or talked to him. Wheeler, at first, wondered what he'd done to have pissed the older cop off, but only when Cybil revealed that Stone came from a very religious and conservative family in Silent Hill and probably held some sort of repressed racism, that he finally understood. In fact, it even explained how someone like him had managed to achieve the position of deputy there (namely 'influential parents'). Anyway, Wheeler knew that there was nothing he could do about it: he couldn't change his skin color and racists wouldn't be convinced otherwise, thus, as long as Stone didn't discriminate him openly, they would have to live on with that.

It wasn't one man's prejudice that was going to keep him from fulfilling his duties as a law enforcer.

Currently it was late in the night and the police station was almost deserted, save for the few officers doing the night shift. Included in the party was Wheeler, who, having just arrived, stopped first at the station's kitchen for a good cup of freshly brewed coffee. Clearly he wasn't fully awake, an expected side-effect of staying up late. As a consequence, he didn't notice the person walking up to him.

"Hey there, Jimbo!" the person called out.

Whirling around, a bit startled by the sudden call (who wouldn't, being inside a nearly empty police station at night?), he recognized his teammate, Mayberry.

"Mayberry," he greeted back. "Got the owl shift too, I see."

"Yeah," Mayberry answered, heading to the machine for some coffee as well. His tone of voice indicated he wasn't too happy with the night shift. "The boss said he needed more people pulling all-nighters and we, newcomers, are usually thrown at it."

Wheeler nodded in agreement, preferring not to make any comments. After all, he had been in the job for only two months and acting whiny so soon wouldn't look professional. It couldn't be helped anyway, the sheriff himself had said that they were understaffed. Someone had to do the job. Plus, his colleague's statement made Wheeler remember that him and Mayberry were the newest ones around compared to the other members. Mayberry had been admitted three years back to replace Robert upon his imminent retirement, nonetheless he was still included in the 'rookies' category.

"Is anyone else in the shift?" Wheeler asked, matter-of-fact.

"Officer Bennett is." The other dully responded, as he finished filling his cup up.

"Bennett?" the dark-skinned man repeated, surprised. "I thought she had the morning shift."

"She volunteered for this one too," the curly-haired officer replied. "She said something about this time around being the most likely for offenses to happen."

"And where is she now? Haven't seen her since I arrived."

"On her way to Silent Hill. Apparently, the communication with the local police is down and she went there to take a look," he said, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. "I offered to go with her, but the station couldn't be left unwatched, so she told me to stay."

Inwardly, Wheeler couldn't help but admire the policewoman for her helpful attitude. Despite the young age (she was 28, only two years older than him), Cybil was one of the most, if not the most, devoted officers in Brahms. Her six years of dutiful service in the Brahms police proved that. Plus, notwithstanding the fact she had already done her assigned shift, she was still willing to work overnight just to keep the population safer. No wonder the team held her in such high esteem.

"If you had arrived a tad earlier, one of us could have gone with her. Silent Hill isn't as safe as it used to be." Mayberry continued.

"Why? Is it because of that time with the DEA?"

"That too," the other cop tilted his head. "It's, of course, a sore spot for us, but not what I meant. It's because of what happened two years ago."

Seeing the baffled expression on his colleague's face, Mayberry concluded he hadn't learned of it yet. Well, not that Cybil would be bragging out loud about it, as the woman herself was very discrete regarding her accomplishments.

"Two years ago," he begun telling, bitterly. "Some maniac kidnapped a boy here in Brahms, then drove all the way to Silent Hill and threw the poor kid down an old mine pit." He paused for another sip. "Bennett was the first to find him, but the boy was in such condition, hurt and famished after days, that many thought he wouldn't make it. Nevertheless, she didn't give up on him. She stayed with him for three whole days, keeping him warm and supporting him emotionally, before help arrived and rescued them. She's been considered a heroine ever since."

Wheeler was aware that unpleasant events were a part of any policeman's job. Dealing with death, hazards, blood, atrocities... it came with the line of work. However, that story suddenly changed many of the concepts in his mind. In Cybil's stead, most officers would have just followed standard protocol: they would call for help the moment they found the boy and just leave it like that. Very unlikely anyone else would have risked themselves by climbing down the pit and staying with the boy to make sure he was okay. And if the child died in the meantime, they would simply claim they did everything in reach for the victim and soon enough the subject would be forgotten. After all, people died everyday and the public opinion would quickly find another thing to worry about.

But that was not what Cybil did. No, she went a lot further than the job required; that kid's life mattered more than her own in her opinion. What she did, actually, showed that the policewoman wasn't a simple-minded public servant, who only acted up to impress the higher-ups and push for promotions, as he frequently had pictured prior to his admittance in the police. Her actions spoke of genuine concern for the population, of commitment to the 'serve and protect' motto. In short, that story made his respect for the policewoman go up a notch.

"By the way, what do you think of Officer Bennett, Jimbo?" Mayberry abruptly asked, with a sly smirk on his face. "I've noticed you been talking a lot to her recently, more than with any other officer here."

Drawn out of his musings, that question caught the rookie off-guard. What the hell was he implying with it? He couldn't possibly be thinking...

"What are you saying, dude? She has been just teaching me stuff about the work, nothing more." He answered, hiding the mild indignation he felt for Mayberry's assumption.

The smirk didn't vanish from his colleague's lips though. "Come on, you don't have to be ashamed. Bennett is quite gorgeous, don't you think?" he paused for the last sip of coffee. "Still, let me warn you, pal: she may be nice, but she's not interested in men. Some of us have already tried, myself included, and to no avail. She's much of a lone wolf, if you ask me."

"Gee, thanks for the advice." The newbie answered with a sharp tinge of sarcasm. Officer Bennett was beautiful, yes. She had a friendly personality, yes. She was worthy of admiration, yes. Even so, Wheeler certainly wasn't looking for a relationship with her. Honestly, he always considered kind of foolish to be romantically involved with a co-worker, as it usually ended up in a complicated (and distressful) overlap of personal and professional issues.

And, just for the record, he considered scolding Mayberry that if he kept acting like that, he wouldn't be taken out of the 'rookies' list anytime soon. Wheeler decided against it in the end; his colleague was probably only playing a childish taunt on him.

Anyway, Wheeler had an idea of why the blond woman was so focused on her job. Adding to the previous story, there was also another that Sheriff Gucci himself had told him a few weeks back. He had learned it however, under the condition that he'd never comment it with Bennett, as it was a rather sensitive subject. This one had been about the reason she had joined the police in first place.

According to the chief, Cybil had been orphaned at a very tender age, her parents being shot in cold blood by a thief who had broken into her home. She was hiding inside the closet at her parents' room while the ordeal took place, her still innocent eyes witnessing through the entire vicious act. Thomas, who was a rookie cop at the time, had been part of the team that investigated the murder scene in the next day, and the first to find her. The poor girl was still into said furniture, mute and curled up into a tiny ball, so tense and traumatized that she was barely breathing. The paramedics had diagnosed it as PTSD and, as a result, she had spent the following three months in the psychiatry ward of a hospital. Finally recovered, she had been raised by family relatives and, to a certain degree, by Officer Gucci himself, who acted as mentor to the young girl. In fact, it had been through him that Cybil, by the time she had reached legal age, was admitted into the police academy and Brahms police afterwards. Thomas still remembered her words when he had questioned her decision of becoming a cop: '_I want to be a police officer. This way, I'll make sure no child will have to go through what I did._'

Words full of unbending resolve, carving into stone what would be her life mission.

'Lone wolf, huh?' Wheeler pondered. 'Can't blame her for being so into her job anyway.' For an instant, he felt a little ashamed of his own motives. He had joined the force, of course, in order to help and protect society like everyone else. However, he had to admit that the job's benefits and social status also played a large role in his choice. Not that these things didn't matter, but now his reasons seemed so lame compared to hers. His parents hadn't been killed (and he was thankful for that), therefore he didn't quite understand how it was like to go through that kind of situation, nor the feelings that motivated her, for that matter.

Yet, he hoped one day to have the same drive as his female co-worker.

Suddenly, the phone on Mayberry's desk rang, startling them both (again, the station was very silent due to the hour) and interrupting their chat. The desk's owner walked up to and took it.

"Brahms Police Department," he answered, in an attempt to look professional. A voice spoke on the other side of line, to which Mayberry quickly recognized. "Hey, Robert. What's up?"

It was Officer Tower, Wheeler identified. That man was supposed to be comfortably sleeping in his bed, beside his wife, just dreaming on his nearby retirement. Why would he be calling at this time?

That question was rapidly answered as Mayberry displayed a shocked expression on his face. "WHAT?" he asked out loud. "Are you sure about it, man?"

Faded the initial shock, the rookie was now starting to feel afflicted. What could have been said that left his colleague in such a state? The talk proceeded on for another handful of uneasy instants.

"All right, I'll tell the others," Mayberry finished, before hanging up the phone. He turned to Wheeler, who was bearing a very apprehensive face by now. "The boss was found dead in his house just a few hours ago. They say it was murder."

A deathly silence followed the cop's words. The announcement had been so alarming that Wheeler needed a pair of seconds to sort out his mind and speak coherently. "You're kidding, right?"

Unfortunately, the reply came in the form of a shake of head. "Wish I was. Robert confirmed to have seen the sheriff's body himself."

Shock gave in place to dread. That was it. Two months in the force and Wheeler was already experiencing his first major incident. "Do they know who did this?" he asked, now with a noticeable trace of fear in his voice.

"Not sure," Mayberry stated, feeling uneasy himself. "But Robert suspects it was the drug dealers. Many officers have been receiving threats lately."

In the end, Wheeler's suspicions had been right. The criminal organization they were facing was indeed more powerful than they first deemed. Assassinating the head of police in Brahms was no trivial issue, and if those thugs had managed to kill the sheriff, what to say about any other officer?

"Anyway," Mayberry continued, once again cutting off his musings. "We have to call Bennett back and tell her of it. It's not safe to be riding off alone now."

Wheeler couldn't agree more with his colleague and both of them headed to the station's radio. The dark-skinned cop still hadn't learned how to operate the device yet (it was something Cybil had promised to teach him later), so he let the other policeman do it. He pushed on a few buttons and adjusted the communication frequency before speaking on the microphone.

"Base to Officer Bennett... Base to Officer Bennett... Bennett, do you copy?" he repeated over and over, hoping to hear his teammate's voice.

Several anxious minutes passed, only static sound meeting their ears. Things were becoming truly worrisome. First, Sheriff Gucci was found dead. Next, they lost contact with another member. And in Silent Hill, of all the places. That location wasn't so far that radio communication would suffer that much interference. Thus, either her radio was off or broken (and they knew neither was the case, since Cybil, as the dutiful officer she was, always kept her equipment on and in good maintenance), or... something happened.

Suffice to say, uneasiness only increased among them. They couldn't avoid thinking it was too much of coincidental the chief being killed and Cybil going unreachable simultaneously. Deep in their minds, lurked the terrifying possibility that whoever was behind one, was responsible for the other as well. If a manhunt was going on, it wasn't the time to lose track of their team. They needed to act, and swiftly, before it got out of control.

"Jimbo, get the guns ready in the cars," Mayberry ordered. In normal circumstances, he didn't have the authority to issue orders, even to a rookie like Wheeler. However, since it was an emergency and he was the oldest officer around, for once he would have to act professional and take matters in hand. "I'll call up the others and tell them a situation's arisen. As soon as they arrive, we'll all search for Bennett together."

Feeling the sturdiness on his co-worker's words, Officer Wheeler nodded and immediately headed to the armory to prepare for the mission.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>PTSD = Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder<strong>**

****In SH comics "Past Life", a certain Reverend Stone is mentioned, which leads to think that the Order's priest Jimmy Stone (from SH4) hails from a very old family in Silent Hill. The 'Officer Stone' in this fic may be just considered another descendant of that family.****

****Cybil's past had inspiration from both the SH movie and the game.****


	4. A Restart in Shepherd's Glen

**I do not own Silent Hill. It belongs to Konami.**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 04 – A RESTART IN SHEPHERD'S GLEN<strong>

As soon as the other officers made it to base, three parties had been arranged. One set to go off to the sheriff's house and aid Officer Tower in the murder investigation. The second group, which had actually only two members, was to remain in the station and keep watch. It wasn't because of an emergency that the station would be left unguarded. The last team headed off to Silent Hill in search of Officer Bennett, with whom contact had been lost for the past hours.

With Wheeler and Mayberry included in the last group, they were right now driving towards the abandoned town. On the way, they discussed the known facts and speculated their courses of action.

"When was the last time Bennett had made contact?" Wheeler asked to Mayberry, who had been in the station before him.

"About fifteen minutes before you arrived. She had transmitted from her bike radio." The other man answered.

"Did she report anything unusual? Like strange people roaming on the streets or something?"

"No, there was virtually no traffic at the time, according to her," the curly-haired man stated. It was expected nevertheless, since not many people drove around that late at night. Then, his expression changed, as if recalling something. "But I remember, however, she claimed to have spotted another vehicle following the same route. A jeep, it seemed."

"You think it might have anything to do with it?" Of course, Wheeler knew it was a hasty guess. Just because a jeep had been in the same road as Cybil didn't mean its passengers were involved with her disappearance. Had it been, it would be almost as though blaming a bystander only due to the fact they happen to be in the same neighborhood as the victim. The possibility was simply too off, the young cop was aware of it, but he couldn't avoid being worried about his friend.

"I don't know," Mayberry dismissed. "That's what we're going to find out though."

"Stop jumping to conclusions, rookie," snorted Stone at Wheeler's comment from the passenger seat. Much to the latter's dismay, the former was in the same car and, worse, the one in charge since he was the deputy there. "Someone who arrives late at his shift and misses the report shouldn't be trying to guess what took place to begin with."

The other cops in the car glared at their colleague. Ever since they met, Stone and Wheeler never got along, due to a disguised racism the deputy held. In fact, most of the station also thought of Stone as a real jerk, with his cocky attitude. Even Sheriff Gucci had been aware of his behavior, but oddly didn't seem able to do much against it, which only reinforced the assumption that Stone's family had some influence on the police. For an instant, Wheeler considered retorting back to that guy, but decided against it. With Gucci gone, Stone would probably become the new sheriff and he'd better not get on his bad side (although he somehow had a feeling he already had).

Besides, Cybil's whereabouts were a more pressing matter to attend to.

The road came to a hillside. On one side, the rocky walls; on the other, a chasm; and in the middle, the road squeezed between them, illuminated by sparse lampposts. Any small mistake in the driving here would most certainly end up in tragedy. Most of the car occupants silently hoped this place had nothing to do with Bennett's disappearance.

Their expectancies, unfortunately, turned out to have been in vain the moment the headlights reached upon a very alarming view. On the roadside, next to the wall, a mainly white-colored motorcycle stood alone, its owner nowhere on sight. Immediately they recognized it as Cybil's bike and, after bypassing it for a handful of yards, they stopped the car. The second police car which was following behind also parked a few feet ahead.

Seconds later, every officer in the team was surrounding the abandoned bike, noticing it was mostly undamaged. Thus, it hadn't been an accident. Even so, standard procedure for road accidents quickly commenced: some started isolating the area with caution tape and traffic cones, whereas others loomed over the chasm edge with flashlights looking for any signals of their missing comrade (which they absolutely hoped it wasn't the case) in the valley below.

Luckily, Cybil wasn't there, so the only possibility left was that she might have entered the town by foot. Why she had left her bike out there, no one present could answer. One of them reported back on the radio, stating that the motorcycle had been found, but nothing of Officer Bennett yet.

"Searches will be continued in Silent Hill," Stone announced, as no clue of the policewoman had been found. He pointed at Mayberry and two more officers. "You three will come with me to the town. The rest of you, stay here and guard the scene until the investigators arrive." He begun giving orders, just before heading to the car.

Wheeler, however, didn't like being cast aside from the search team and tried to reason with the deputy. "Sir, I request to go to Silent Hill too. I'd like to help."

Stone squinted his eyes in his direction, affronted. An arrogant man like him didn't accept being questioned, especially by a newbie. "I said 'the rest of you stay here and guard the scene'." He repeated, in a rather threatening tone.

That made Wheeler's blood boil. The deputy was plainly dismissing him, not even bothering to state a good reason why. After all, the more people in a search group, the more likely to find someone missing. So why wasn't he allowed to go with them? Most probably Stone was just attempting to keep him out of the spotlight. This guy's prejudice was going too far; Wheeler only wanted to help.

"With all due respect, sir..." he said, trying to suppress the indignation in his tone. "Officer Bennett has been a good friend and, if she's in trouble, I want to help her."

"You stay here, rookie. And that's final." Stone coldly said, turning back to the car.

When the police car finally left for the town, Wheeler sighed in anger and frustration, feeling like cursing out loud. Stone didn't even have the dignity to call him by his name or rank, instead addressing him as 'rookie' only. Dealing with that stupid, racist bum on command would surely be hard. He hadn't signed up for this and, inwardly, was wondering if this job was going to be worth it at all in the future.

.

Unbeknown to all of them, on a road on the other side of Silent Hill, a lone male figure rushed out of the town, carrying in his arms something wrapped in white drapes.

Something akin to a newborn.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Shepherd's Glen, about one year and a half later.<strong>**

The local police station was mostly quiet during that morning. On that particular day, Wheeler awaited in the lounge for a meeting with his new employer, having arrived a couple of minutes earlier than scheduled, just to be sure.

While the wait proceeded, the young cop spared a glance to the new uniform he was wearing, different from the one he'd last worn (this one consisted in a light-brown shirt with grayish pants). Either out of boredom or nostalgia, he couldn't help but recap through the reasons that drove him here. The reasons for which he was in this new job.

That fateful night, around eighteen months back, when Brahms police had lost two valuable comrades, one being dead and the other, missing. The murder of the chief of police, Thomas Gucci, at least had enough evidence to be linked to the drug dealers. Regrettably, however, the disappearance investigation hadn't been so successful.

He recalled as the search team (of which he wasn't allowed to take part) had come back to the station two days later, completely empty-handed. They had requested the aid of the local police, which as expected didn't know a thing about her whereabouts, and had combed through the entire town, head to tail: in the main landmarks, in the locations the drug dealers hung around, in the nearby woods, but nothing in the end. No Cybil, no clues, no nothing.

Nonetheless, the searches hadn't ended. A general broadcast was sent to every police department in the state, eventually dragging in the FBI. With the case getting federal attention, one could hope it was finally going to lead somewhere. Especially because Bennett's disappearance was believed to have some sort of connection to another that, surprisingly, had occurred in the same time, in the same place. Apparently, a novel writer by the name of Harry Mason had traveled to Silent Hill on the same day, his daughter and himself being reported missing shortly afterwards. According to the investigations, this Harry guy owned a red-colored jeep, which matched the description the policewoman had last reported.

Much to the Brahms police's dismay although, even after involving the feds, the mess hadn't advanced one step ahead. Harry's jeep had never been found and, despite the coincidental time and place, there was nothing else that could link both disappearances. The chief's murder, naturally, went up to the court, resulting in a few thugs being trialed and convicted. Still, since neither Cybil nor her body had been found, basically they couldn't prove whether the dealers had something with it and, thus, couldn't prosecute them. Eventually, the FBI itself ended up losing interest on it and deemed the case cold.

On the other hand, Brahms police hadn't given up on her yet. It was their teammate they were talking about, so they wouldn't let things be finished like that. What had turned out though, as Wheeler himself had predicted, was that Officer Stone had become the new chief of police there. This wouldn't have been a problem, if it wasn't for the fact Stone didn't seem so bent on looking for her. Actually, in a couple of occasions, he had even hindered the searches, claiming the police had more important work to do than seeking out someone who was probably dead by now. And here was Wheeler, thinking Stone couldn't get deeper on the team's bad side.

The last straw, however, had come three months ago, when Stone finally decided to call the investigation off. Despite the team's protests, Stone had stated it was futile to keep searching after such a long time frame and labeled Officer Bennett as 'killed in the line of duty', merely ordering a posthumous plate in her memory. Hardly something to make justice for her.

At last, Wheeler had enough of it. Working under Stone in itself was very distressing, as he was pretty much aware of his dislike for him. It had been a tough choice and he didn't want to quit the force either, but had no other option in the end. The working environment was simply too toxic for him to continue. And given he hadn't much time of service yet, it'd better to leave now and restart fresh somewhere else than sinking roots in swampy soil. Most of his colleagues, nevertheless, were too old for that and needed to stick to the place anyway. But, even from afar, Wheeler promised he would keep in touch with his Brahms old peers.

And there he was, waiting to meet his new employer in this little town, having received the offer not long ago. His job interview hadn't been done by the chief of police himself, instead by one of his trusted officers. It was fifteen minutes past the scheduled time; the sheriff was late. Anyway, whoever his new boss would be, he was sure they couldn't be worse than Stone.

That was when said person entered through the station door. A man in his early thirties, not much older than the rookie, his haircut presumably indicating he was or used to be in the military. Indeed a great difference from Brahms, with someone so young being in charge here. But again, Shepherd's Glen was a tiny town, even smaller than Brahms. You probably didn't need lots and lots of experience here to get yourself a position, in theory. And if he was a military, he was likely to know at least how to keep things in order. He also bore a somehow stiff demeanor and, therefore, could be interpreted as a strict person. Wheeler made a mental note not to slack off while under this man.

Seeing the uniform-clad man at the lounge, the sheriff made a beeline to the former. "James Wheeler?" he asked, inquisitively.

"Yes, sir," the dark-skinned officer nodded, standing up from the bench he was sat. "Officer James Wheeler presenting himself for work, sir."

"At ease," the other man simply said. "I'm the sheriff, Adam Shepherd. Welcome to Shepherd's Glen."

So far, so good, thought Wheeler. His boss seemed pleased with his salute (the same he had used back in Brahms). Indeed he was a military. Wheeler just hoped things would continue this smoothly.

The fact that the sheriff bore the same surname as the town's didn't surprise the rookie either. As the good ahead-planner he always was, a bit of research on the town's history brought out that the Shepherds were one of the founding families of Shepherd's Glen, subsequently named after them. Of course, with that also came the _slight_ suspicion the family name had a influence on his position as the sheriff, much like it had with Stone. Just slight.

Gosh, Wheeler wished _he_ had someone to recommend him for a high position...

Adam guided him through the station, leading him to an office with a few desks and policemen in it. Most likely his new co-workers from now on.

"This is your office," he explained. "I'd show you more around, but right now I have a medical appointment. Anything you need to know, ask your colleagues."

Well, that was fast. Wheeler was expecting to talk and learn more about his boss, but this man appeared to be in a hurry.

"Are you feeling okay, sir?" he asked, regarding the mentioned appointment. Although he sought to be in Adam's good books, there was also genuine concern for his boss needing to leave in the middle of the day.

"Oh, it's not for me, that's for my wife," Adam cleared. "She's pregnant with my first child. The birth is up to next month."

The rookie's eyes widened. His boss was a soon-to-be father. "Congratulations, sir." He sincerely complimented.

His praise, however, didn't have the expected effect on the sheriff. Adam's expression shifted to a scowl, even letting out an angry huff in the meantime. That lasted only a split second, before Adam realized this and quickly recomposed himself. Wheeler pondered what he'd said that could have ruffled his boss' feathers; he had just complimented him.

The newbie also noticed Adam giving a very brief side glance towards a metal-carved crest hung on the station wall: a shield with an anchor and two crossed swords at front, vines sprouting off the hilts, and the inscriptions 'Shepherd' above and 'England' below. Probably the Shepherd family coat of arms. The sheriff's eyes were sad, almost depressed. What was with that look? It looked rather he was going to a beloved one's funeral than becoming a father soon.

"Thanks," Adam muttered, his tone indicating he didn't really mean it. "I shall leave now. Have a good day."

Before he left though, Wheeler needed to know of a few more things about the job. For now, he wasn't going to press the previous subject further; prying into his boss' privacy wasn't a smart idea.

"Sir, only one thing I need to know: what about the town just across the lake, Silent Hill? I heard it's a troublesome place." He asked. After all, Shepherd's Glen wasn't that far from that Silent Hill, despite not as close as Brahms. He didn't want more 'incidents' with that city.

A quick, barely noticeable trait of discomfort returned to the sheriff's face, but he readily shoved it away before answering. "Indeed it's a troublesome town, but rest assured. Whatever happens there doesn't affect us here. You won't have to go there, be sure of it."

"Won't the local drug dealers give any problems?"

"They won't," he shook his head. "Mark my words, Wheeler: Shepherd's Glen is a very calm and safe town. Even in this job, you'll _never_ have to load you gun." He reassured, just to leave soon afterwards.

That answer seemed to satisfy the young cop, as he simply entered the office to start working. Well, at least here he wouldn't have to worry about people going missing like happened in Brahms.

Nonetheless, deep inside Wheeler's mind, something still felt off.

Something telling him that he hadn't seen the last of Silent Hill yet.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>That's it, folks! We now come to the end of the second installment of Silent Hill Reminiscence. I think, from this part on, the plot is quite familiar to the readers.<strong>**

****Thanks for reading! If you haven't read it yet, please check out on my profile for the first installment of Silent Hill Reminiscence: Detective Cartland. I have a few more ideas for the next installments, so stay tuned for them.****


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